


[UT Spoilers] Undertale One-Shot: Ok

by SomethingtwopointO



Category: Undertale, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Frisk - Freeform, Gen, Genocide, Mettaton - Freeform, Papyrus - Freeform, References of Death, Undyne - Freeform, asgore - Freeform, chara, references of genocide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8131993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingtwopointO/pseuds/SomethingtwopointO
Summary: Undertale Spoilers!The aftermath of a no-mercy run in Sans's perspective.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Undertale Spoilers!
> 
> I felt like doing a little drabble...so I did. Wow! 10/10 explanation, S2O! Anyway, sorry it's so short, but it is a drabble. You won't get this if you haven't played the game. I'm referring to Papyrus whenever I use male pronouns that are italicized. This is, obviously, platonic. Also, I feel like I did well at the end; I feel like I really hit it home with angst with that last line. You know, or I'm just dumb, whatever.
> 
> Undertale © Toby Fox  
> Art © Meee

Holding a long, red scarf close to his face, Sans let out a sigh into the cold winds of Snowdin. He let his legs dangle off the edge of the precipice he sat on.

They hadn’t killed everyone yet, but what did it matter? If _he_ couldn’t have gotten through to them, who would? Undyne? Metteton? Asgore?

No. They were too far gone. What was the point in waiting; he already knew they’d kill everyone, he didn’t need visual proof.

Even so, he dangled his legs from the edge and let the chilled breeze brush against his bones, locking up his joints. What was the point in waiting? What was the point in going?

He tried to stand, if only to go sit beside what was left of _him_ , he honestly did try.

But he kept dangling his legs, showing no sign of his effort to budge. He pulled the scarf closer to his face, nearly covering the dark pits of his eye sockets. His knees ached from kicking out his legs, but he was so numb, he barely noticed.

Sometimes, Sans entertained himself by brainstorming why exactly they’d decided to kill everyone. Why they reset and did it all over again. Just to reset. And kill. And reset. And kill….

He stopped dangling his legs and stood up. Slowly, he trekked past the pile of dust, past the piles of dust that littered Snowdin. He opened the door to his house – just his house now – and didn’t bother shutting it. Who would be spying on him anyway?

Sans moseyed to the other side of the room, his quiet shuffling echoing in the barren, unusual silence. He leant down and picked up a lone sock, brushing the surplus of sticky notes from it. He carried it into his bedroom and tossed it into his pile of socks.

Going downstairs, he scribbled on a sticky note and added it to the mess of them left behind.

“ok”.


End file.
